


A Christmas Wish

by HaylesAtwellington



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Steggy Secret Santa, howlies on an adventure, preggy steggy, the years before steve went into the ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5608147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaylesAtwellington/pseuds/HaylesAtwellington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Colonel, if I could just--"</p><p>He held up a hand and fixed her with a hard look. "You're being reassigned effective tomorrow."</p><p> </p><p>Steggy Secret Santa for mstinker24 (: (:</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Wish

"I'll come back, I swear."

 

"Steve--"

 

"I know."

 

The radio crackled and she sucked in a steadying breath.

 

"Be careful."

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

She switched off her radio and chewed on her bottom lip, fingers tapping nervously on the wooden table where she sat. He was assigned to missions away from her far too often as it was already, but now--

 

"Carter."

 

Peggy whirled and stood, forcing her hands to be still at her sides. "Sir."

 

Colonel Phillips raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he gestured toward the command tent. She led the way, her curiosity getting the better of her.

 

Phillips was like a father to her and kept her close to his side, at least as far up in the intel chain as she proved herself worthy of, and she knew very well he was loath to send her out in the field, as much as she begged to be of more use than sifting through page after page of processed codes.

 

But an invitation to the command tent? That didn't happen every day.

 

Inside, the hot, muggy air felt far too oppressive for comfort, but she schooled her resolve and waited for the colonel to speak.

 

"You have been a valuable asset to this division." he stated finally, "The work you've done has far exceeded anything we could have hoped for. You are an outstanding agent."

 

Peggy frowned, confused. "Sir?"

 

Phillips sighed and rubbed a large hand over his face. "You're not going to be able to hide a kid forever, Margaret."

 

Her heart dropped all the way to the floor and she tugged at her uniform jacket, suddenly conscious of how tight it had become over the last few weeks. "I don't--"

 

"Quit interrupting," he barked, offering her a chair.

 

She sat apprehensively and looked down, feeling like a scolded child.

 

"I'm more observant than you like to give me credit for. You're pale. Anemic probably. You're not getting proper rest or eating well. You've been sick, haven't you?"

 

Peggy couldn't meet his eyes.

 

"The Germans are on their way here—to this post. We’ll have to hold them back here as long as we can and give our boys in the south time to prepare. You don't belong in the line of fire if I can't protect you, especially now."

 

She wanted to be angry; to tell him she could take care of herself--she didn't need protecting, but recently all her emotions seemed to involve were tears.

 

"Colonel, if I could just--"

 

He held up a hand and fixed her with a hard look. "You're being reassigned effective tomorrow."

 

Peggy swallowed, fear seeping through in the form of tears. "Where?"

 

Phillips studied her for a moment, then glanced around before coming around the table and wrapping her in a hug.

 

She choked and he patted her back comfortingly as she cried.

 

"Suit up and meet your team by dawn. You'll be the new coding expert for the Howlies. If anyone can keep you safe, it'll be them. "

 

Peggy pulled back, shocked.

 

The colonel released her and handed her a stack of transfer papers just as two other COs walked in, heads bent over their maps.

 

She turned away from them and dried her cheeks quickly.

 

"Thank you, sir."

 

Phillips nodded gruffly as the men glanced up, seeming to just realize they were there.

 

"You'll be fully briefed this evening," he said, "You are dismissed."

 

Peggy nodded and clutched her papers to her chest as she headed back for her quarters.

 

Her shoulders relaxed for the first time in months as the door closed behind her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Steve?"

 

"On the way--sit tight."

 

An explosion knocked her off her feet and she instinctively curled in on herself, reaching up to protect her head as debris rained down on her.

 

"Carter!"

 

"What the hell was that, Dernier?"

 

"That wasn't ours--"

 

"Peggy, are you alright? Come in."

 

Peggy coughed violently and struggled to her knees, disoriented.

 

"Fuck--Peggy? Can you hear me?"

 

She fumbled around for her radio in the rubble, still coughing, eyes watering.

 

"I'm going in there."

 

She spotted the radio a few feet away under a pile of broken boards and scrambled toward it frantically.

 

"Don't you dare--" she wheezed into the device, "The building structure is unstable. If even one of you comes in, it'll come down on both of us."

 

"Thank God--"

 

She dropped the radio to her side and took stock of her injuries--minor, fortunately. Once she was sure there were no broken bones, she carefully studied the creaking building around her.

 

"Peggy are you hurt? Is the bab--"

 

She dove for the radio and hushed Steve quickly. "Just a few bruises. Stay clear of the danger zone, boys--I'm on my way."

 

"What was that, Cap?" Dugan asked in her ear.

 

"What was what?"

 

"You were going to say something else." Morita pointed out.

 

Peggy rolled her eyes as she stood and began carefully picking her way across the room.

 

"Oh," Steve mumbled. She could practically see him scratching the back his neck sheepishly. "It was just…nothing."

 

She sighed as she reached the stairway. She hoped it would hold her. "Oh, go on, then, darling," she said softly, "I'm sure the boys could use some good news."

 

Her earpiece shorted out as the commandos all spoke at once, demanding to know what was going on.

 

Peggy took the stairs slowly, hyper-aware of the swaying walls, ready to make a jump for it if need be.

 

"P-Peggy and--uh--Peggy and I--"

 

The house creaked loudly and she darted down the remaining steps and through a doorway just as the back half of the house--including the stairs she'd just been standing on--collapsed.

 

"Peggy?!"

 

She ignored them for a moment as she stumbled to the far side of the room, her focus occupied on keeping her balance as more debris and dust clouded her vision.

 

"He means to tell you you're all going to be uncles," she said as she bent over to catch her breath, "providing this house holds out long enough for me to get out." Her stomach churned angrily and she lost her rations in the corner.

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“You mean to tell me--“

 

“She's pregnant and we—“

 

“ _Jesus_ , we should have—“

_"That’s enough._ ” Steve said, silencing them all, “Peg, where are you?”

 

She frowned at the conversation, but continued on toward her exit, eying the splintered walls.

 

The door was too far away. She'd never make it.

 

"Is everyone clear?" she asked, breaking into a run as the walls buckled.

 

"Yes."

 

It was barely audible over the noise, but knowing the team was at a safe distance, she bolted for a nearby window and prayed.

 

Glass shattered around her, cutting into her skin and catching in her hair. Crashes echoed all around the little valley as the house finally gave out completely, missing her by mere inches as she ran.

 

She continued to run until she reached the tree line. Her earpiece had fallen out--probably when she crashed through the window. There was no possible way her team hadn't seen--or at the very least heard--the house come down, but all she could do was collapse on the grass and dry-heave.

 

Her stomach cramped painfully and she grimaced, rolling to her back. The evening sky glowed pink and orange above her as she crossed her arms over her eyes, breathing heavily.

 

"Peggy!"

 

"Carter!"

 

"Did anyone see her get out?"

 

"Carter!"

 

She tried to call out, but her throat was too dry to emit anything but a squeak.

 

"Peggy?!"

 

She groaned and used a nearby tree as an aid in standing.

 

"Steve," she called, voice cracking as she emerged from the trees and saw her boys digging frantically through the rubble.

 

"Oh, God, Peg!"

 

Peggy was immediately surrounded by six distraught Howlies, all fussing over her. She rolled her eyes and held up a hand.

 

"Stand down." she huffed, still breathing raggedly, "Give a girl some air."

 

Steve reached for her hand and pulled her over to a nearby tree stump to sit, kneeling in front of her to look her in the eye.

 

"You okay?" he asked as he smoothed back the hair that had come loose from her ponytail and checking the cut along her jaw bone.

 

She nodded and smiled gratefully up at the boys, who had gathered a few feet away, hovering like overprotective guard dogs.

 

"You're pale." he accused, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead.

 

Peggy swatted his hand away and pushed him back a few inches.

 

"Honestly, Steven," she chided, "need I point out the pile of rubble directly to your left?"

 

He dropped it, but his frown stayed for the rest of the evening as they set up camp. They all insisted she let them do the work, and normally she would argue, but her stomach hadn't stopped wringing itself out and she made good use of the time finding a nearby stream to clean her cuts and wash the dirt from her skin.

 

Dinner was a joyous affair. Peggy's plate was the first dished and they made sure she had a little extra, each giving up part of their dinner for her. She objected loudly and called them all a wide range of expletives before they promised never to let her catch them doing it again and settled in.

 

She leaned back into Steve's chest as the usual campfire stories and songs began.

 

"Your stomach?" he whispered in her ear.

 

Peggy sighed and rested their entwined fingers over her middle. "Yeah."

 

He kissed the top of her head and began tracing gentle circles over her shirt. "Can I help?"

 

She smiled and reached behind her to cup his cheek. "You already are, my darling."

 

Steve matched her smile and tightened his grip.

 

Eventually the conversation petered out and the only sounds were the crickets and the crackling of the fire.

 

Peggy's eyelids grew heavy and she slipped in and out of a doze for a few minutes before Dugan made the first move.

 

She smiled up at him as he extended a hand and she allowed him to pull her to her feet.

 

"Today was a close call. Too close. We're going to have to be a lot more careful in the future if we're going to get this kid here safe and all."

 

Peggy snorted. "Bunch of teddy bears, the lot of you."

 

The men guffawed jovially and shrugged. 

 

"Very well," she hummed tiredly, "we'll talk strategy for our next op in the morning. Get some sleep gentlemen."

 

Steve stood and stretched as the team each wished Peggy a good night’s rest and went about preparing for lights out.

 

She reached behind her for his shirt and clung to it for a moment. 

 

"As high quality and delicious as Falsworth's cooking is, I don't think it's quite agreeing with me. I'll be in in a moment, darling."

 

Steve gripped her hand and shook his head.

 

"Nope. I'm coming too."

 

She sighed, but allowed him to follow her deeper into the trees toward the stream. As they walked, Steve fussed over her until she wanted to scream. 

 

"Darling, you're going to hurt yourself," she snapped, "Please, just--"

 

She dropped his hand suddenly and doubled over, vomiting into a bush on the other side of her. 

 

Steve panicked.

 

"Oh, God--"

 

Peggy coughed and threw up again as Steve's tone of voice grew higher in pitch. 

 

"What do I do?!"

 

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and reached over to interrupt his pacing.

 

"Shhhh," she comforted, righting herself and turning into his chest, "Just stand here and hold on."

 

He obeyed and she shut her eyes tightly against her still-queasy stomach, listening instead to the strong beat of his heart.

 

"I can't lose you, Peggy." Steve whispered after a few minutes, "You're the most amazing--you're so strong, I just--"

 

"I'll take a step back." she promised, "A small one, mind you: but I'll take it."

 

He relaxed visibly and kissed her.

 

"Thank you."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Weeks passed. 

 

Now at five months, her morning sickness days were past and her stomach was impossible to hide. Not that she minded. She quite liked her new curve, and especially the way Steve looked at her--like she was a miracle. 

 

He was glued to her side every spare second; hands always on her--massaging her shoulders, holding her hand, or over her belly, searching for any flutter of movement.

 

The snow began to settle in, filling them all with a sense of seclusion amid the trees. They were miles from the nearest post, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Peggy did her best to contribute to missions from a distance, usually staying behind at whatever makeshift base they’d set up and staying in their ears, but every so often she was required to be code breaker in person. 

 

She tried not to let them see how much she enjoyed it. 

 

"Seventeen and counting, boys." she called into her radio as she used her pocket mirror to scout around the next corner, "I'm disappointed in you. You're all talk and no--"

 

Pain seared through her right shoulder and she whirled, firing with expert marksmanship and dropping the enemy where he stood, smoking gun still in hand.

 

" _Fuck--_ " she swore, wincing as she rushed to the man’s side.

 

He couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen, blonde—scared out of his mind judging by the misdirected shot. He’d probably never shot at anyone before in his life.

 

“Shhh,” she hushed, bringing his head to rest in her lap.

 

He looked up at her, fear and pain in his eyes. “ _You are very pretty.”_ he said haltingly in German.

 

Peggy smiled sadly. ” _I am so sorry,”_ she replied in his own language, “ _You didn’t deserve this._ ”

 

"Carter?"

 

“ _My mother would be pleased with me.”_ he confided, coughing a little as he spoke, _“I did not kill in this godforsaken war._ ”

 

She smiled and kissed his forehead. “ _Rest now. Your mother must be a fine woman. I’m sure she is proud of you.”_

The boy smiled and nodded, coughing harder now.

 

“Peggy?”

 

She pulled her earpiece out and let it dangle over her chest as she sat with him and waited.

 

It was only a few moments later that he took his final breath.

 

Peggy wiped the tears from her eyes and did her best to ensure the young man would be identifiable after the explosion. His poor mother would be grateful for that.

 

Once she was finished, she put her earpiece back in to find the entire team in pandemonium.

 

"Carter!”

 

"Keep your pants on." she huffed, gritting her teeth against the pain in her shoulder as she started back the way she'd come, "Are you pansies finished playing around?"

 

Hot blood ran down her back and she ducked into a storage closet to find something--anything--to stop the bleeding.

 

"Charges are set." Dernier announced.

 

"Everyone out. I've got the harddrive." Steve added.

 

Peggy swore again and bit her bottom lip as she ripped a strip of fabric off a HYDRA uniform and shoved it under her uniform and over the bleeding.

 

"Clear."

 

"Clear."

 

"Clear."

 

"Clear."

 

"Clear."

 

"Clear."

 

Peggy leaned heavily on the wall and took several deep breaths.

 

"Peggy? Are you out?"

 

She forced herself to start walking, gun firmly in her left hand. "Just a tic, darling."

 

The hallway began to dance in her vision and she stumbled, crashing to the floor with all the grace of a newborn giraffe.

 

"What's keeping you, Carter?" Dugan teased, "We've got places to be."

 

Peggy struggled to her feet and pressed on, determined to make it on her own.

 

"Wanker." she huffed into her radio, "I'll show you places to be."

 

At last. The door was in front of her.

 

"At the door--lock and load."

 

Damn Steve and his super hearing. Damn him and his stupid, over-protective, loving face. Damn him for finding her out.

 

"Peggy what happened?" he asked seriously, "You sound--"

 

Peggy growled in frustration and pulled open the door, hands shaking.

 

"Barely a scratch," she said sweetly as she approached her cover, "I'm clear. Blow 'em sky high."

 

She collapsed into the snow behind a bolder and tried to cover her ears as best she could.

 

The ground shook and she toppled over, blackness filling her vision.

 

~~~~~~~

 

When she came to, all she could do was scream.

 

"Peggy, you need to hold still," Steve said softly next to her ear, "They're nearly finished."

 

She flinched as the pain in her shoulder increased, then buried her head into Steve's chest and tried her best to be still.

 

It seemed like an eternity before a faraway voice announced the bullets were out and rough hands began binding the wounds.

 

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

 

"You're going to be okay." he insisted quietly, "You promised."

 

His arms tightened around her and she felt her consciousness slipping again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She was in pain.

 

Fiery, burning, excruciating pain.

 

But the worst part was that she couldn't fully wake up. She drifted in and out, catching snippets of conversation between her team members or Steve talking to her quietly at her bedside.

 

"What do we do, Cap?"

 

She heard Steve sigh sadly. "We wait. Keep giving her blood as she needs it. We don't give up."

 

_Darkness._

 

_Pain._

 

"We've been ordered to--"

 

Then Steve, angrily. " _No_. I'm not leaving her."

 

_Darkness._

 

_Pain._

 

"Margaret."

 

Her mother?

 

"Margaret, stop waiting. You _can_ wake up."

 

_Darkness._

 

_Pain._

 

Nothing.

 

Panic filled mind.

 

She was alone. They'd left her behind.

 

 _Wake up, you lazy lump_. she pleaded, _Get off your arse._

 

It took far more effort to open her eyes than was probably necessary, though she figured getting shot twice gave her a bit of a pass.

 

She was in a tent, covered in plenty of blankets, though still shivering in the cold.

 

Slowly, she tested out her limbs, learning quickly her right shoulder was definitely still hurt.

 

It wasn't easy, but she managed to sit up and dangle her bare feet off the cot.

 

"You up yet, Carter?"

 

Peggy jumped, then relaxed as she realized the voice was coming from the radio on her bedside.

 

"You sure sleep a lot for a--"

 

She rested a hand over her stomach and reached for the device.

 

"Fuck you, Dugan."

 

Dugan yelped in surprise and she heard a crash come from outside her tent.

 

"Peggy?"

 

Steve burst through the tent flaps, still zipping his trousers. Apparently he'd just been out for a quick bathroom break.

 

“How long?” she asked as she scooted to the edge of her cot and prepared to stand.

 

Steve rushed to her side and stopped her before she could start.

 

“Nine days.”

 

She frowned, but before she could get the chance to ask more questions, the rest of the commandos were through the tent doors and flocking to her side, offering to fetch water or food or a smoke—anything for their girl.

 

Peggy waved them off and pulled the blankets over her shoulders against the chill.

 

“What happened?”

 

Steve insisted she stay sitting. She didn’t argue. Mainly because she could feel sweat on her brow despite the temperature, and the ache in her shoulder increased steadily, but she insisted she be allowed to sit outside near the fire.

 

According to the boys, they’d found her passed out and barely kept her alive long enough to get to the nearest field hospital. Steve and Fallsworth took turns giving blood to her, as they were the only matches in the group, but even for a day or two after, her odds were very slim.

 

“General Archibald ordered us back to work—threatened us, threw a tantrum—long story short, we weren’t leaving you, so we didn’t listen.”

 

Apparently they'd sabotaged their own equipment and insisted repairs needed to be take care of before they returned to the field.

 

Gutsy move, though she supposed Captain America and his Howling Commandoes did as they pleased.

 

“Right,” she said, once they were finished, “When do we roll out?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next few weeks, Peggy used her free time to rehabilitate her injured shoulder. It was painstakingly slow progress, but it kept her spirits up to see the improvement. She was becoming less mobile in general as the baby continued to grow and become more active, so it was a blessing to have something to occupy her mind.

 

"Approaching drop point," Steve's voice crackled over the radio, "Any word from Howard?"

 

Peggy set down her hand weight and reached for the receiver. "Not yet. Expecting contact any moment now."

 

As if on cue, the receiver across the table whined and Howard Stark's best and most dramatic rendition of "Danny Boy" broke through the static.

 

Peggy reached for that receiver and firmly pressed her button.

 

"This is no time for singing, Howard," she scolded, "The boys are in position. What is your location?"

 

"Nice to hear from you, Pegs," Howard shot back, "Any chance you've changed your mind about--"

 

Peggy rolled her eyes.

 

"Howard, I am happily in love with Steven. I will not be joining you in your romping about." she huffed, "And besides, I'm not sure you'd make such a quick offer if you could see me."

 

She gazed lovingly at her protruding stomach. Growing a human being and deterring Howard Stark all in one go.

 

"Oh, right," he said suddenly, "I heard about that. You'll be up and at it again in no time."

 

"You heard about it? Where from?"

 

As far as she knew, just Phillips and the boys knew about the baby.

 

"Oh, here and there. Field nurses are always talking."

 

Peggy pulled a face.

 

"Two bullets? You are one tough cookie, Carter."

 

She couldn't help it. She burst into laughter.

 

"What? What'd I say?"

 

She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "Oh, Howard, you have no idea."

 

He objected loudly, insisting he knew plenty of things and demanding to know just what she was implying.

 

"Are you in position?" Peggy asked, ignoring his yammering and focusing back on the task at hand.

 

Howard grumbled, but she eventually inferred that he was indeed in position. She told him to hold position and switched back to Steve's radio.

 

"Howard is ready for you, boys."

 

The rest of the op went over smoothly.

  
Smoothly until the boys decided to invite Howard back to camp for dinner.

 

" _Jesus Christ,_ " Howard yelped as soon as he spotted her moving around the camp, “You’ve swallowed a melon!”

 

"Yes, yes, all of that," she dismissed, busying herself with cleaning the pile of weapons her team was piling on her makeshift table, "Feel free to lend a hand--plenty of chores to go around."

 

Each of the boys immediately got to work preparing for their meal. Morita and Happy Sam tugged a gaping Howard along behind them as they set out in search of more firewood.

 

Steve joined her at the table, snaking his arms around her from behind and kissing her neck.

 

“Hello, darling,” she hummed, handing him an extra rag, “care to lend a hand?”

 

He settled down next to her and they worked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Steve spoke.

 

“I’ve been thinking.”

 

Peggy laughed, “Oh, sounds dangerous.”

 

He snorted and rolled his eyes dramatically. “I was just going to say—“

 

She sighed and set down her rag. “I know. It’s getting close.”

 

Steve swallowed and nodded, turning his attention on his fingers. “I’m not really sure how—How can I—” he huffed in frustration, “What do I do? I mean, Jesus, Peggy, we’re in the middle of hostile territory. We don’t have a medic or supplies. I've never even been within fifty feet of a pregnant woman, let alone know how to--”

 

Peggy rested a soft hand on his arm. “We’re going to be okay.  Come with me.”

 

She stood, a little awkwardly, but unassisted, and led him to their tent.

 

“Sit here.” she instructed, lowering herself carefully to the floor and crossing her legs in front of her.

 

He obeyed and folded his legs to match hers, their knees nearly touching.

 

Peggy held out a hand for his and took a deep breath.

 

“When I was a little girl, I watched my Aunt Caroline give birth to my younger cousin,” she began, “I remember listening to her crying and shouting—using crude language I’d never even heard before—and I got frightened. Not for her, but that I might one day be in her position. I swore in that moment I would never have a child.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to interject, but she raised a finger and he kept his thoughts to himself.

 

“We had this storm cellar, you see—and after my cousin Jonah was born and wailing and the women in the room gathered around her to get their first look in, I ran. I remember thinking my heart was going to beat right through my chest—that they were definitely going to find me because the pounding was so loud—so I hid in the cellar.”

 

She shifted positions slightly before continuing.

 

“An hour or so later, my nan came down and found me crying and sat down across from me just like this—she said ‘Margaret, your Aunt Caroline is a lovely girl, but she is too easily frightened.’”

 

“I remember being confused and asking her what she meant—I don't remember her exact words—something like this. ‘Our bodies do not know what to do when we are frightened or facing the unknown. Fear tenses us—makes us stiff and unable to work with the tools we have already been given naturally. The most important thing one can learn is how to understand one’s body and why it works the way it does so we can use that to our best advantage. If Caroline had taken the time to gain a knowledge of the birthing process and understand why and how her body worked through it, she would not have been so frightened. She would have worked with her body instead of against it.’ A very different experience, Steve. I've used that basic principle in my combat training—my personal life—and now, you and I are going to use it to do something even better.”

 

Steve grinned crookedly and shook his head.

 

“Your nan is some lady, Peg. Remind me to thank her one day.”

 

Peggy laughed brightly. “Soon as we report back to base, I'll introduce you properly. She’s always in the mess hall supervising kitchen prep.”

 

Steve’s jaw dropped. “ _Cookie_ is your _nan_?!”

 

She continued laughing at his reaction.

 

“Wonderful, isn't she?” Peggy sighed and ran both hands over her stomach, “God, I'd give almost anything for her to be cooking dinner tonight.”

 

Steve stood and helped her to her feet just as Dugan called for them.

 

“Perfect timing. Let's eat.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Phillips had radioed in to give his permission for a bit of a break.

 

Peggy was relieved, and as it turned out, they had been traveling in the direction of England to begin with, so redirecting their course to her small hometown was hardly a chore.

 

The population had long been evacuated. Her family was gone, as were her neighbors and friends--everyone in the area--leaving about four hundred houses empty and at their disposal.

 

She directed them to a charming little white two-story house at the end of a lone street, snow falling around them as they walked.

 

“Should we break the lock?” Dugan asked, eying the door.

 

Peggy pushed through to the front and reached into her boot, producing a silver key that slid easily into the lock.

 

“It’s my house,” she teased, “No need to break in.”

 

The boys raised eyebrows in surprise, but silently followed her instructions as she directed them to the fireplaces and pointed out the well in the back garden.

  
“Beds downstairs and upstairs—the den and living room have sofas. Pick your poison.”

 

Steve stuck close to Peggy’s side. She was tired, she knew it showed.

 

She rested her hands on her lower back and balanced out her weight as best as she could.

 

“Maybe you should sit.” Steve offered, guiding her to a warn chair in the corner.

 

“Not there—“ she insisted, backing away from it as if it had stung her, “I’ll go upstairs.”

 

He nodded and watched her move over to a light switch on the wall. To his surprise, the light above them flicked on.

 

Peggy turned it off quickly and smiled.

 

“Keep the firewood handy, but don’t light the fires just yet.” she instructed, “We have electricity.”

 

The boys cheered and Peggy laughed. “I’ll get the heating up and running. The store room in the basement should have plenty of canned food. Best eat now.”

 

More cheers went around as Peggy made her way down the hall. Steve followed behind her, ready to assist in any way.

 

She pointed out and old radiator and he slipped past her to turn it on.

 

It sputtered for a few seconds, then turned off again.

  
“Hold on, darling, there’s a trick to it.”

 

Steve stepped back and watched in amazement as Peggy performed a quick five step jig—albeit a little awkwardly with her belly—and kicked the metal casing in time.

 

The radiator roared to life and she smirked.

 

“My father’s doing. Fucking ridiculous, isn’t it?” she mumbled, leading him back to the main room.

 

He laughed brightly and folded her into his arms. “Probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

Peggy glared at him, but soon they were swept into the circle of commandoes and a rich dinner of canned peaches and string beans was served.

 

“Guess this is as good a Christmas celebration as we could hope for.”

 

Peggy looked up in surprise. “I’d almost forgotten. Merry Christmas, boys.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Peggy.”

 

~~~~~

 

Days went by without a word from command. The boys scoured the surrounding neighborhoods for supplies as Peggy spent more and more time in bed.

 

“Steve, can I speak with you for a moment?”

 

Steve looked up to see her standing at the top of the stairs. “Sure, Peg—“

 

Peggy ducked back into their room and he followed, closing the door being them.

 

“You okay?” he asked, his concern apparent as he reached for her.

 

She raised a hand and he pulled back.

 

“It's going to be today, darling.” she whispered, “I’m sending the boys away on a mission.”

 

Steve’s concern changed to panic but he nodded and stayed quiet.

 

She cupped his cheek in one hand and locked eyes with him. “I'll get them going. Don’t go anywhere.”

 

Peggy left the room and made her way downstairs.

 

“Phillips called in a mission.” She announced, startling the boys into attention, “How about it fellas?”

 

They all nodded in excitement, ready for something new.

 

Peggy took Steve’s place on the sofa and reached for a sheet of paper from his sketch pad.

 

“There’s a HYDRA safe house eight miles northwest of here,” she explained, marking their position and target on the paper respectively, “You are to locate and dispatch. There’s been word they’re planning to use it sometime soon. Phillips wants it gone.”

 

The boys nodded and Peggy took a moment to make a rough sketch of landmarks and known enemy patrols.

 

“You're on your own here. Phillips is sending Cap in the opposite direction after another safe house. Dugan, you’re in charge. Best get going soon as.”

 

Dugan took over from there, directing the packing of weapons and supplies quickly and efficiently. Twenty  minutes later, they were on their way back to the trucks.

 

“Steve?” she called, shifting uncomfortably.

 

He burst out of their room and rushed down the stairs.

 

“We’ve got maybe an hour before I’m immobile. The storm cellar is well stocked and there’s a portable heater in the basement.”

 

“On it.”

 

Peggy watched him go, then took a moment to breathe through a contraction before standing and making her way to the closet for her winter coat and gloves.

 

She was just finishing when Steve appeared with the heater and a couple extra blankets.

 

“Ready?” He asked.

 

She grinned and looped her arm through his.

 

“Ready.”

 

The birth was a quiet, intimate period for Steve and Peggy.

 

Her body pulled her this way and that, guiding her through the process, Steve moving between her head and legs as needed.

 

She was sweating and tired, but as expected, the pain was virtually non-existent. A twinge here and there, maybe, but overall her focus was on her love and their experience together.

 

“Almost there, Peg,” Steve announced from his place at the foot of her makeshift bed, tears in his eyes.

 

The cellar was lit with fifty or so candles they'd dug out of a corner chest, he looked beautiful in the soft light.

 

She smiled and reached for his hand.

 

“I love you, Steven.”

 

He sniffled quietly and kissed her palm.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

A snowstorm raged above ground. Large flakes of snow whirled in the wind, whose wailing echoed that of a little baby boy.

 

~~~~~~

 

“Steve, could you—“

 

Steve rose to his feet and took his newborn son from her, bouncing him gently as his little mouth stretched in a yawn.

 

“I'm going to say it again.” Steve warned with a soppy grin at the little bundle in his arms, “He’s perfect.”

 

Peggy stretched out an arm and laced her finger through his.

 

“My two perfect boys.”

 

They'd been in awe of their little one for hours. The candles were burning low and soon Steve would have to brave the storm to get more, as well as radio the Howlies and Phillips.

 

Peggy was not moving from that cellar anytime soon, and neither was the newborn.

 

Peggy watched him push open the cellar doors, pulling the blankets tighter around the baby as the wind curled in.

 

“Don't be too long, Steve. We still need a name.”

 

He nodded and shut the doors securely behind him.

 

Peggy tucked her son between her breasts and leaned back into the mountain of pillows behind her, beyond in love with him, but thoroughly exhausted.

 

“Mummy and daddy love you very much, my love.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Jonathan Michael Rogers, you put that back.”

 

A little boy with wild brown hair and bright blue eyes froze, his prized wooden race car in hand.

 

“Aww, but mummy!” he pouted, “I want to play!”

 

Peggy knelt down beside him and held out a hand.

 

The three year old handed the toy over and she held out her arms for him.

 

“Come along, love, daddy's running the men today. I'm sure he could use your help.”

 

Jonathan’s eyes brightened and he jumped into her arms.

 

Phillips was outside her door when they emerged.

 

“Uncle Chester!” Jonathan shouted excitedly, squirming down from Peggy's arms and jumping to attention.

 

“At ease, son.” Phillips barked gruffly, eyes twinkling with amusement.

 

Jonathan giggled and reached for Peggy's hand.

 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” she asked. Even with living on the base and both she and Steve working as before, visits from the Colonel had become few and far between over the last three years.

 

“We found him.”

 

Peggy's blood ran cold and she reached down to lift Jonathan into her arms. He protested loudly, but didn't try to squirm loose again.

 

“Where?”

 

Phillips gestured for her to follow him and she did so quickly and quietly, trying to appear as if she were going about her regular duties.

 

“Mummy, I want to help daddy count the push-ups.” Jonathan whispered.

 

“Oh, do you?” Peggy asked, as they came to the Colonel’s office, “Well, let's make a deal, hmm? If you can play quietly while mummy talks with Uncle Chester, we’ll go count push-ups, okay?”

 

Jonathan nodded excitedly and Peggy handed him his toy car.

 

“Scouts picked up his trail here,” Phillips said, pointing out the location on a map, “We've followed him for a few days. We planned to wait and see what he does, but then we came across this.”

 

He unfolded a drawing on his desk and Peggy gasped.

 

“No—“

 

“I'm afraid so.”

 

“New York?”

 

“Naturally.”

 

“ _Fuck._ ”

 

He nodded again. “I'm pulling a team together.”

 

“You need Steve.” She guessed, glancing over at their son, playing quietly, just like he promised.

 

“And you.”

 

Her head snapped back to look at him.

 

“Sir—“

 

“I would never take the both of you away from him if it weren't absolutely necessary.”

 

Tears filled her eyes and she looked back over at Jonathan.

 

“Mummy why are you crying?” he asked, jumping up to give her a hug.

 

She held on tightly and nodded at Phillips.

 

“Jonathan, my love, mummy and daddy have to go catch a really, really bad man.”

 

He tilted his head and his fingers brushed along her hair.

 

“Am I coming too?” he asked.

 

~~~~~~~

 

“Don't you _dare_.”

 

The static from the radio receiver echoed loudly around the control room as Peggy pleaded—ordered—Steve not to take down that plane.

 

“It's the only way to stop it from hitting New York,” he said, “I can't let all those people die.”

 

Peggy fumed. “If you think I'm going back to our son to tell him you're never coming home, you're wrong. I _can't,_ Steve. He'll be heartbroken and I'll be—“

 

She choked on a sob and strengthened her resolve.

 

“I can't lose you. We can't lose you. Please, darling—“

 

More static.

 

“Peggy, I'm sorry. Tell him—“

 

“ _No._ ” she shouted, tears filling her eyes, “Find another way.”

 

“I love you both very much.”

 

Static.

 

“Steve?”

 

Her heart dropped.

 

“Steve?”

 

Static.

 

She didn't remember what happened after that.

 

The rest of the battle flew by and in an instant she was pulling back into the barracks with the rest of the men, a weight on her heart.

 

The pain intensified as she spotted Jonathan on Falsworth's shoulders, cheering and waving with the rest of the men.

 

She jumped out of the still-moving truck and made her way toward them, breaking through the commandoes and gathering Jonathan up in her arms just as the tears began to fall.

 

The men around her went silent as the realization settled in.

 

Their mascot hadn't come in.

 

Captain America--

 

“Where's daddy?”

 

The Howlies formed a protective barrier around her and her little boy as she pulled back and straitened his little jacket.

 

“Daddy had to fly an airplane, my love.”

 

Jonathan’s eyebrows drew together in a frown.

 

“Why?”

 

Peggy sat on the ground and gathered him into her lap.

 

“There was a very bad man, you see,” she began, trying her best not to notice if there were tears in the eyes of her fearless team, “he put a very dangerous bomb on an airplane and was going to crash it in a big city even though there would be a lot of people that died.”

 

“Oh, I see.”

 

Peggy smiled in spite of herself. “You do?”

 

Jonathan nodded. “Daddy had to save the people, right?”

 

She nodded through fresh tears and kissed his little head.

 

“Well, that's okay then.” he pointed out, “Uncle Howard can find him I bet.”

 

Peggy couldn't bring herself to tell him he was wrong--that Steve wasn't coming back--so she just continued to let him talk about all the reasons daddy would come home after all.

 

Three weeks until Christmas.

 

Dugan stepped in first and offered Jonathan a race around the mess hall, which he eagerly agreed to.

 

Peggy drifted back to their quarters to gather her showering supplies.

 

The water was barely lukewarm, but she sat in the spray and allowed herself time to cry before she would have to put on a brave face for her three year old and the men in the division.

 

She must have been there for a long while. Footsteps approached and the water turned off, leaving her shivering, tears still flowing.

 

“Come, Margaret.”

 

Peggy accepted the towel and looked up at her grandmother’s kind face.

 

“Up you get,” she said again, “you'll catch cold.”

 

Peggy obeyed numbly, dressing in a clean uniform and following the older woman’s footsteps all the way back to the kitchen staff housing.

 

Her grandmother didn't say anything, just sat her down on her cot and began brushing her hair.

 

Peggy closed her eyes and imagined for a moment she was just a little girl again, none of the pain and heartache included.

 

“I am proud of you.”

 

Her eyes popped open and her nan enfolded her in an embrace.

 

“You have become an admirable asset to the effort—you are resourceful and steadfast—your head is on the right way—you are an incredible mother. You didn't deserve to lose him so soon, love.”

 

Peggy wiped at her face and nodded.

 

“I'll have some cake for you and Jonathan after dinner this evening, alright?”

 

She nodded and kissed her goodbye, her face set back to mother and agent mode.

 

Steve’s sacrifice would not be in vain.

 

~~~~~~

 

The weeks leading up to Christmas were a somber sight. Work went along as usual and Peggy did her best to distract Jonathan from Steve’s absence.

 

The Howlies filled in as best as they could to give her time to mourn, but she was far from through.

 

It wasn't until Christmas Eve that something changed.

 

“Alright, you,” she said to her overly excited little one, “time for bed.”

 

Jonathan jumped into his cot and Peggy sat on the edge to kiss him goodnight.

 

“Wait!” he cried, scrambling back to the floor, “I didn't make my wish.”

 

Peggy's heart sank. She knew what he'd wish for.

 

Jonathan dropped to his knees and swept his brown locks back before folding his arms and squeezing his eyes shut.

 

“Please please please please _please—_ amen.”

 

Peggy raised an eyebrow, but kissed his forehead and tucked him in.

 

“Goodnight, my love.”

 

“Goodnight, mummy.”

 

Peggy watched from her cot as Jonathan drifted into a peaceful sleep.

 

He'd wished for Steve to come back.

 

Hell, she wished for him to come back.

 

She sighed and slipped on her boots and coat, quietly slipping out of the room and into the night.

 

The stars shone brightly above her as she wandered. The snow sparkled in the moonlight and she found that tears were streaming down her cheeks.

 

She wiped them away quickly as she heard approaching footsteps.

 

“Bit cold to be outside, don't you think?”

 

She whirled in disbelief, sure she'd mistaken his voice.

 

“Steve?” she asked breathlessly.

 

He grinned through tears of his own and she rushed into his arms.

 

He was dressed strangely. She had no idea where he'd gotten the clothes.

 

“How—wait.”

 

She stepped back quickly, drawing her weapon and aiming in directly at his heart.

 

“Woah, wait—Peggy—“

 

“You're different. Your eyes—who are you?”

 

The man held up his hands in surrender.

 

“God, I've missed you.”

 

She held her ground, more confused now, but waited for him it explain himself.

 

“I took down that plane and ended up frozen in the ice. The serum put me into hibernation—I slept for seventy fucking years, Peg. Missed everything.”

 

Peggy's hands shook as tears clouded her eyes.

 

"Howard’s son—now I know that's a shocker to hear—he took me in as part of a sort of modern commandoes team to fight what was left of HYDRA. I just wanted to be here with you and Jonathan—“

 

Her gun was slowly lowering, though his story seemed absurd. Something in her heart made her listen.

 

“Took him a few years and a lot of favors, but he—Tony, I mean--Howard's son—he finally invented a time machine and sent me back here where I belong. With you—“

 

Peggy lowered her weapon all the way, turning the safety back on, tears flowing freely now.

 

“You couldn't have been selfish just once, could you?” she snapped, angrily, “For once couldn't your family be the greater good? Jesus, Steve, we can't just—“

 

She collapsed into the snow and covered her face in her hands.

 

She could feel Steve hesitate behind her, then take his place by her side.

 

"My family is always the greater good. You are just as key to making this work as I am, Peg. I knew I was probably out of luck--used it all up getting you and Jonathan--I knew you'd be able to do it without me if you had to. I'm sorry.”

 

Peggy wanted to hit him—scream at him and—

 

“We need to get out of here.” she said firmly, “You and me and Jonathan—we can't do this anymore."

 

"Agreed."

 

Peggy sighed and stood. "I suppose you'd better stay hidden. They'd never let you out of sight if they knew--"

 

"I'll take your name."

 

She laughed. "My name?"

 

"Well why not?" he defended.

 

"Alright. My name if you like, darling. I guess Jonathan will have his Christmas wish after all."

 

END.

 

 

 


End file.
